


Found Out She’s An Angel

by Frea_O



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Charmed - Freeform, F/F, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frea_O/pseuds/Frea_O
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla’s really not happy about her latest assignment.  A Carmilla/Charmed fusion told in 5 parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Found Out She’s An Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Title courtesy of They Might Be Giants' _She's An Angel_

“Why weren’t we given a ‘proper’ whitelighter?”

Of course it’s the youngest of the trio to ask.

Carmilla considers the truth, as it isn’t a long story. You can only be a minion demon for so long before your mistress is taken out by another supernatural force, and that force gets to decide what to do with you. In her very lucky case, said force was the actual Elders.

This isn’t hell, but it’s torture.

“You saying I’m not proper, cupcake?” she says instead of bothering with the truth.

The witch rolls her eyes.

“Let me guess—you’re the type to always use the crosswalk,” Carmilla says, dropping onto the threadbare couch and rolling her eyes. She kicks her boots up onto the arm of the couch and watches the oldest witch flinch. Great. Poor, under-trained, and there’s a neat freak in the bunch. The Elders must be upstairs laughing their asses off.

“Of course I do,” Baby Sanctimonious Witch says. “Obviously. Our father taught us—”

Carmilla yawns.

The middle sibling pats their younger sister on the arm. That had been the first lecture. LaF’s not our sister, they’re our sibling. Which: fine. Whatever. She’s a modern demon-turned-whitelighter, she’ll adjust. “I’m sure the Elders know what they’re doing,” LaF—what is that even short for? Carmilla should have maybe paid attention when their names were said—says. But they look a bit baffled when they take in Carmilla. “You have all the whitelighter abilities, right?”

“The important ones.” And some of her demon abilities as residuals or whatever. She’s not going to complain.

“So it’ll be fine,” LaF says. “She’ll be there to protect us.”

“I’m not feeling that protected,” the little one says. She looks nothing like her siblings, though she’s not much shorter than either of them.

Carmilla studies her fingernails in the light of their terrible apartment. Witches should always have proper mansions; she really needs to get on that if she’s going to be hanging around. “What’s the matter? Don’t trust me?”

“You were a demon,” Cupcake says.

“Bad habit.” Carmilla buffs her fingernails on her Sex Pistols T-shirt. “Got over it. Mostly. So, charges, where am I supposed to sleep?”

The neat freak twists her hands together and looks worriedly toward her siblings. Carmilla doesn’t even need demon or whitelighter senses to hear the warning bells. “About that…” 

* * *

“That’s your half of the room, and this is my half of the room,” Cupcake—whose name apparently starts with an L if the letter on the shelf among the books is anything to go by—says, pointing at the actual twin bed on one side of the wall. “I’ll stay on my half and you stay on yours, and it should be okay.”

Carmilla looks up at the ceiling and does her best not to raise her middle finger. “Should’ve just let the Elders kill me,” she mutters, dropping onto the mattress.

“What was that?” her new roommate says.

Carmilla doesn’t answer.

* * *

It’s not to say she hates her charges. She doesn’t. They’re annoying as hell, gnat-like, and the older two don’t understand how knocking works. And it’s not like she hasn’t had annoying charges before. Elsie had a tendency to stumble into some horrible situations before getting eaten by a Hyperion Swagg demon and if original thoughts were pennies, SJ’s head wouldn’t have even rattled (Carmilla almost feels bad for letting the brain parasites get her, though. SJ was sweet). Betty was just…she doesn’t want to talk about Betty. 

But in this moment, Carmilla kind of hates her charges.

“The eBook of Shadows?” she asks, the amount of disdainful incredulity overcoming the fact that she was going to silently ignore Laura this evening just to mess with her. 

Laura doesn’t look up from her laptop. “Yeah, I said I need to update it. Apparently you were listening. Wait, you’re giving me a look. What’s wrong with that?”

“Your grimoir cannot be a Kindle.”

“Yes it can,” Laura says.

“There are traditions about these things,” Carmilla says. “Words should have weight—”

“Ohmygod,” Laura says it like it’s all one word and she actually sounds delighted for once, instead of snippy like her usual conversations with Carmilla (which consist of _Carmilla why do you not clean out the shower drain ever_ and _why do you even go to demon bars you’re supposed to literally be an angelic being of good. I don’t care if the two for one margarita deals are good, you’re supposed to be on our side_ , so it’s understandable why Carmilla tunes her out a lot). “You’re one of those!”

Carmilla makes a disgusted look she may have perfected while in panther form. “One of whats?”

“You hate ebooks. Luddite,” Laura says. “That explains so much.”

“I don’t hate ebooks,” Carmilla says, though it’s true, she doesn’t own an eReader. For one thing, she’s not exactly making the big bucks as a whitelighter since her charges are all poor university students. “But your Book of Shadows cannot be an eBook. You have to take proper precautions and guard it from demons corrupting the words—or I guess the file. You give me a headache.”

“LaF’s an actual genius with tech stuff,” Laura says, waving that off. “And isn’t it smarter? I have living proof right here that demons don’t keep up with the times.”

Carmilla groans. “Don’t come whining to me when a demon takes you out because you got a virus on your Kindle, sweetheart.”

Laura narrows her eyes at the nickname.

Carmilla raises an eyebrow in response and picks up _Metaphysical Foundations of Natural Science_ from where she’d dropped it at Laura’s announcement that she needed to add a spell to the eBook of Shadows. She slouches a little lower, ignoring her charge and roommate, who’s now humming to herself like she’s won some kind of battle (which she has not).

When she chances a peek, Laura grins. “Luddite,” she says, and Carmilla scowls.

* * *

Their first battle could have gone better, Carmilla has to admit. But how was she supposed to know Laura was going to summon a demon because she had questions? She’d have thought a witch would be smarter than that, but nope. Between LaF scrambling to telekinetically bat away the demon’s light-blasts, Carmilla trying to heal a gash across Laura’s shoulder before the idiot does something stupid like bleed out all over the rug they picked up at a flea market, and Perry racing around to gather ingredients for the potion, things may have gotten out of hand. But nobody hears Carmilla use Laura’s real name, which is the most important part.

“Children are missing, and it’s clearly something magical,” Laura says later, after Carmilla’s put them all back together in more or less one piece. “And Danny’s not getting anywhere on this case—”

“Yes, right,” Carmilla says, not bothering to hide the bite to her words. “It’s okay to summon demons if it’s to help the mall cop.”

“She’s a detective.”

“You _summoned a demon_.”

“In her defense,” Perry says, because she always looks a little askance at them when Carmilla and Laura start sniping at each other, “we do summon you all the time, and you’re technically—”

“A whitelighter,” Carmilla says. “For all intents and purposes, I’m a whitelighter. She summoned an actual horned demon to ask it a question.”

“The eBook of Shadows says that anglerdemons are usually a friendly breed,” Laura says, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, he was real friendly when he was ripping chunks out of you,” Carmilla says.

“I’ve updated the book to fix that reference,” LaF says. “Shouldn’t happen again. But hey, did you see? That’s the most I’ve ever lifted telekinetically.”

As one, all four of them look at the decimated vase in the corner. Perry lets out a little whimper (they haven’t let her clean it up yet).

“Did you have horns?” Laura asks out of the blue.

Carmilla whips around to glare at her. “No. And that’s not the point. The point is—”

“Give it a rest,” LaF says. “Laura’s sorry and she won’t summon any more demons, right?”

Laura pauses.

“Right?” LaF says.

“Right,” Laura says when she notices all three of them looking at her pointedly. “Carmilla aside.”

“I’m a _whitelighter_ ,” Carmilla says, though she has no idea why she’s defending that point considering how much she hates this heroic angelic being crap. She gives Laura her grouchiest look. “Did you even try to contain the cuddly demon you thought you were summoning?”

“I thought he was a friendly!”

“Every time I got summoned, there were containment spells,” Carmilla says. She points at each of her charges in turn. “Learn them. Use them. Don’t cause trouble while I’m gone.”

“Where are you going?” Laura asks, brow furrowed.

“If there are kids missing, I’m going to ask the Elders before mall cop bats her eyelashes at you and you summon something worse than an anglerdemon.”

* * *

When Laura steps in front of the blast meant for Carmilla and goes tumbling off the cliff and into the pit of lost souls, Carmilla doesn’t think about her two other charges fighting for their lives.

She slams the demon in the face with her sword and jumps after Laura.

She hits the water hard enough that the shockwave knocks her useless for a second, and sinks into the biting cold. Mother would tell stories of the pit to scare her children, and here’s Carmilla, knowing that without her armor, it would claim her in a heartbeat. She swallows against the terror and darkness and focuses instead on the point where she saw Laura go under.

An eternity later in the unrelenting darkness, something grabs her hand. She yanks until she feels arms slide around her shoulders and—praying it’s Laura and not some lost soul—she fights her way back to the surface. 

They gasp as they break through into the cold night.

Laura shoves her hair out of her face, breathing hard. “Let’s never do that again,” she says, and it’s everything Carmilla can do not to hug her.

“You _would_ see a dark lake full of unclaimed souls and say ‘I think I’ll take a swim,’” Carmilla says, mostly to hide her own relief.

“What can I say? I’m special. But, really, you’re welcome.” Laura sounds drained, and Carmilla understands that because she can feel the icy water around them pulling at her, too. She closes her eyes and concentrates until she’s gathered enough strength to orb them back to shore, where they both collapse.

A few seconds later, an explosion rocks the ground. Carmilla lifts her head, but it’s only Perry, scrambling over the hillside to get to them.

“What happened to you two?” she asks as a bloody LaFontaine jogs up.

“Carmilla totally saved my life,” Laura says. It’s noticeably colder when she rolls off of Carmilla.

LaF takes in their sodden appearance with a wide-eyed look. “You went in? I thought you said it was dangerous!”

“It is.” Carmilla sits up and wrings a handful of hair out. She’s going to smell like undead souls for a week. Gross. “Kills most demons instantly.”

“How are you not dead?” Perry asks.

Carmilla coughs and waves a weak hand at her stupid outfit. “Whitelighter armor.”

But Laura’s frowning. Wet and disheveled is a great look on her. “Did you know that would protect you?”

“Had no idea, cutie.”

“But you—you didn’t even hesitate—”

The Elders are going to have something to say about that, Carmilla figures, but they’ve got other problems right now. Perry’s explosion took out the rest of the demon horde, but they’ve still got to get to the bottom of the missing children mystery. So she holds her hand out and lets Perry pull her to her feet.

“We should go before more trouble arrives,” she says, and uses the last of her strength to orb them back to their apartment.

* * *

A couple months later, Laura pages through the eBook of Shadows while munching on popcorn Carmilla made (it’s the only way she figures Laura gets anything close to approximating a vegetable). They solved the case of the missing children last week and only burnt down half of the apartment in the process. In the meantime, they’re squashed together in the only salvageable room, with Perry on Laura’s bed, LaF on a cot on the floor, and Laura and Carmilla tucked in together because they’d lost the coin-flip (or so Laura says). LaF and Perry are out looking for a new place for them, so it’s just the two of them.

“Hey, have you heard of this?” Laura says. 

Carmilla looks at the screen and nearly has a heart attack. “No.”

“Hm. Karnstein,” Laura says, wrinkling her nose. “Super-strength, super-speed, changes into a jungle cat to cause destruction. It doesn’t sound that scary. Oh, it says mostly harmless. That’s why.”

“It does not say that,” Carmilla says.

“It does. Right here.”

And it _does_. Carmilla feels the insult all the way down to the soles of her feet, which are currently tucked under Laura’s legs. It takes everything she has not to hiss at the Kindle.

“You okay?” Laura asks. “You seem a little…”

“I’m fine.” Carmilla returns to her book. “You know, jungle cats are deadlier than that book gives them credit for.”

Laura gives her a weird look. “Are they?” 

“Obviously.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” 

The minute Laura leaves, Carmilla reads the entry on Karnsteins, scowling at the picture of a housecat—a _housecat_ —that accompanies it. She considers erasing it, but Laura might get suspicious. 

Not long after, they find a place large enough that everybody gets their own bedroom. Carmilla sulks privately. Sharing a room—and a bed—with Laura had been nice, but Carmilla gets the feeling the Elders approve of this new situation. She flops on her new bed and considers flipping them off for old time’s sake.

She feels a tug in her gut she hasn’t felt in decades and thinks oh crap.

She lands on all fours in the pentagram and blinks in confusion. “Did you just summon me?”

“Ha!” Laura says, setting the Kindle down. “I knew it. You were so offended, I knew you had to be a Karnstein.” She does a little booty-shake dance that Carmilla absolutely does not find cute. 

Carmilla sticks a hand outside of the pentagram and scowls. “What have I told you about using containment spells?” she asks, stepping out. “What if I’d been an actual demon?”

“Obviously, you are one,” Laura says. “I summoned you. And if I’d used a containment spell, I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

She steps forward and kisses Carmilla, wrapping her arms around her, and it’s so sudden that Carmilla freezes. She feels Laura laugh.

“Okay.” Carmilla kisses her back. “Seriously, though—use a containment spell.”

The Elders will _hate_ this, Carmilla thinks as Laura laughs. Good.


End file.
